Monstrous
by Shahrezad1
Summary: Roxanne thinks it's high time she visited her cousin, especially after missing the girl's ill-fated wedding. Meanwhile Megamind follows with…monstrous results. T-rating, just to be sure, although it'll be closer to K .
1. Chapter 1

**Monstrous**

By Shahrezad1

**Summary:** Roxanne thinks it's high time she visited her cousin, especially after missing the girl's ill-fated wedding. Meanwhile Megamind follows with…monstrous results.

**Disclaimer:** Roxanne wears red, Megamind is blue. This Disclaimer is somewhat pointless, but please don't sue…I'm poor enough already. ^^;

~/~/~

Normal is a relative term.

It was a thought that came to Roxanne Ritchie often enough, starting almost ten years ago. But if normal was an average of experiences, added together and leveled out to number the similarities, then an 'out of the ordinary' experience took quite a deal of effort.

Unknown to her, this would be one of those days. _Weeks._

It started off 'average' enough. Megamind, Metro City's newly reformed hero, was busy at work coming up with ideas. And it was amazing to see what he could come up with, given the right incentive.

Schematics for a clean-energy water-processing plant ("purifying the city's _lee-quids_ while creating simultaneous friction-based _ee-nergy!_") mingled with sketches for a new dehydration gun ("It has a new setting! Slow-mo freeze!"), while sketches for a new costume hovered overhead via clips, courtesy of Minion and the brainbots. Blueprints mixed with rough sketches which were smattered with megamind-blue sticky notes. And buried beneath it all was a thirties-ish, cerulean-skinned alien wearing toxic-symbol pajama pants and un unclosed white button-up, plain t-shirt showing through from beneath. Devilishly cute black slippers hugged his feet malevolently, button-y red eyes glittering pseudo-balefully.

He didn't notice the bemused reporter's scrutiny, a combination of inherent snoopiness and his own loud "mood" music working in her favor. But she didn't mind the lack of attention-it meant that she got the chance to watch him, in all his energetic glory.

Roxanne just silently watched, appreciation running her eyes along the line of wiry muscle in his back, while curiosity made her wonder if the skin at the base of his skull was as soft as it looked. And if it was, just how smooth and warm would it be? He was always covered by those high-necked cowls of his, so much that sometimes she wondered what it would be like to just graze her fingers along the back…

Blinking at the almost voyeuristic thought (could it be considered voyeuristic? She wasn't quite sure), Miss Ritchie blushed a slight, embarrassed pink. Things were getting to a point where it was almost difficult _not_ to notice the similarities between him and his normal human male counterparts, large head and skin color aside. And even more so with their previous relationship between them.

Honestly, she'd never even been attracted to the _real _Bernard, from having vaguely known him before during the construction of the Metroman museum. It hadn't been until Megamind commandeered the identity that she even took notice of his existence, to be honest, and it had really been the villain's personality which had brought him alive. So applying that character to a different body type wasn't difficult. Jarring, yes. Difficult, no. And when she thought about all those times he'd held her hostage or carried her as she tumbled off into unconsciousness, arms steady around her…

Suffice to say she'd started thinking about runners. And scarecrows. Gymnasts too.

Which made their relationship difficult.

Namely, they didn't have one. Whatever had previously existed between the two of them was left behind in the tide of current events, memories playing out behind closed lids and in awkward conversation. And with no time to discuss apologies or faults before they were shoved back into the limelight, and specifically back into roles like 'Hero' and 'Devoted Reporter,' they had nowhere to go. The public had been quick enough to throw them together (this time as a couple, rather than Villain and victim), his hands wrapped around her waist a rather _telling_ image. But the truth was that nothing had progressed.

Roxanne didn't dare say it aloud, especially having 'known' him for literally years, but it seemed almost as though Megamind had become _shy_ around the news anchor. And as for herself humble pie was a bitter meal, but she knew it was more than an issue of breaking down her pride and asking forgiveness; she had to find out where she stood. Did she still care about him? Was he still the same person, façade aside?

And more importantly, did she really want to be tied to the city's new resident hero? It was the same dilemma which had deterred her from a relationship with his predecessor (and apparently life-long rival), rebuffing Metroman's hints and forays without a single thought. All she had ever really wanted was a normal life-well, reporting aside. A husband, a family, and maybe even a white picket fence…or at least a decent apartment.

Of course, she'd never asked for her romantic life to be constantly under the public eye. But in determinedly not dating Metroman while still being connected to him in publication she had been left with her Friday and Saturday nights free, kidnappings aside.

Not that the situation would change, should she accept a superhero for a 'boyfriend' (curse the term and it's tacky public connotations). Instead of being dateless over the weekend, she'd more likely get deserted for gang wars, drug busts, and the endlessly plaguing struggle for villain territory. So was she really ready to risk it with a man who had also played a large part in her 'single' status, the mustache-twirling villain to Metroman's white knight?

And then there was her heart leaping at the idea, like it had some part in the situation as it stated that it didn't give a fig for the ramifications. What then, if she followed the blasted thing? It threw the whole situation, and especially her logical mode of thinking, for a loop.

Either way the situation was out of her hands-interest or no interest, it was hard to instigate much of anything romantic when your other half was jumping at shadows and shouting about leaving their nuclear reactor switched on any time they bumped into one another.

Roxanne sighed almost inaudibly and smoothed down her pencil skirt, the ruffle at the back her one acquiescence to femininity. The rest was all business, black suit coat matching her monochromatic color scheme of white blouse and plain pumps. It was a standard outfit for the reporter when laundry needed to be done or someone political was to be interviewed. She didn't really mind the blandness in those occasions because, well, usually in those situations she was as interested in seeing them as they were in seeing her.

Still, it made for a pretty plain-looking 'goodbye' outfit.

The sigh she'd expulsed made Megamind's head turn slightly, ear cocked. But with no follow-up commentary he probably assumed that it was just Minion doing his rounds, who knew better than to interrupt him when he was in a full-out brainstorm, pun intended.

Unknown to him, she definitely wasn't Minion.

Closing in the few short steps that separated them, Roxanne allowed her hand to grasp his thin shoulder. It was more physical contact than they had had in almost two weeks, and she took the opportunity provided by his distraction to her advantage, making it not just a touch but a caress as she cupped the round of the bone.

The alien froze for less than a millisecond, just enough for her to notice, then flung himself away against one of the surrounding walls, chest heaving with either anxiety or something else. She felt guilty for a few moments as they just stared at one another, open-mouthed.

"Miss Ri-_Roxanne!_ I-."

"I'm going out of town, Megs. I thought you should be the first to know."

Surprise turned to dismay and on to horror in short succession, his ribs no longer huffing and puffing but frozen as though he could somehow hold the air permanently in, "w-what? You're kidding, right?"

"Afraid not, Green Eyes," a purple blush ambushed his angular features, said green eyes widening. She smiled softly, unease dimmed as they came to somewhat familiar territory. Namely him trying to put up a front of bravado and skepticism while she teased him, "my cousin called in a favor, saying that there was some emergency that direly needed my help, so I'm going to be flying out today. And since I missed her wedding day I thought I should probably give in or pay the consequences."

"_Con-SEA-quenches?_"

"Yeah, she knows just a little bit too much about me," irony and humor made the words slip past her censor, and as soon as she saw the deliberately _un-curious_ stillness of his face Roxanne knew she shouldn't have said anything. Oh, _well._ Too late for that, "also, things are pretty settled right now so I thought the timing would allow for it."

"Settled? Um, but…uh. What if something happens while you're gone?" arms that had been spread-eagled came forward to grasp her by the shoulders and this time it was her turn to blush. The Ex-Villain didn't notice, "Who will cover the stories?"

"Oh, Iris McIntire, I imagine. She's been eyeing my job for ages, so I wouldn't be surprised if she jumped at the chance."

Her calm matter-of-factness didn't put even a dent in the blue-man's worries, and it was with anxiety that he actually shook her, slim fingers wrapped in a very permanent way upon her arms. His fingers were long enough that they just brushed her collar bone, thin and spindly. Roxanne blushed again, rosily.

"But what if I…what if I'm _not_…"

_Ah._

Roxanne raised one hand in order to gently place it along his cheekbone, enjoying the faint warmth that softly radiated from his skin. And that seemed to help somewhat when it came to his fluttering nerves. As for the reporter, she was just reveling in their current closeness. To think she'd rejected this with her callous words before…

"You'll be fine, with no backsliding. Minion will be here to help you…keep on track," playfully, she tapped his chest with a lightly balled fist, the same way she had so many weeks ago with his Bernard disguise. And by that point his own grip had dropped to the one side, while the other hand remained as though holding on to a lifeline.

"Besides, it's only a week."

"Yes. A _wee-ick_."

"A week, Megamind, just a week."

~/~/~

AN: Um, not much to say. Just that this idea hit me with a sledgehammer, and will probably exist as about a three-shot-er, but no more than that. The beginning is a little slow, but it won't remain that way for long, I assure you. –practices her evil laugh- And on a side note, yay, I'm writing again!


	2. Chapter 2

**Monstrous**

By Shahrezad1

**Summary:** Roxanne thinks it's high time she visited her cousin, especially after missing the girl's ill-fated wedding. Meanwhile Megamind follows with…monstrous results.

**Disclaimer:** Roxanne wears red, Megamind is blue. This Disclaimer is somewhat pointless, but please don't sue…I'm poor enough already. ^^;

~/~/~

**Chapter 2**

_A week_, Roxanne reminded herself as the plane jumped for what seemed like the fiftieth time in an hour, _it's just a week._

But she was already miserable.

First there had been the charge for having two carry-on bags rather than just one, regardless of her explanation that all it was just a camera bag. Then they had overbooked her flight, so she'd had to book to another city, then pick up a second trip thereafter. New security measures caused her to be searched not just once but twice (for heaven's sake, they were just fillings!) and what was left of her in-flight snack had fallen to the floor, now inedible and completely undesirable.

What with all the small little pains plaguing her she almost was ready to give in-the trip wasn't worth all the trouble it was causing her. But a promise was a promise, she knew, and Ritchies never backed out of keeping their word. Especially not after verifying that she would be going.

Roxanne sighed and twitched her skirt lower upon her knees, cursing that she hadn't had the chance to change into something more comfortable before heading out. If she had known just what a hassle she would be receiving...well, hindsight was definitely twenty-twenty. At least she knew what to expect on the return trip and would prepare accordingly.

As for now, the indignity of the entire trip was easy to at least partially block with the careful application of a good book: _Evil Genius_, by Catherine Jinks.

Not that she'd ever let it slip to Megamind that she was reading that one. They already had enough sci-fi in their lives as it was, and it had been bad enough when the alien had found out that she liked _Artemis Fowl_!

~/~/~

What he wouldn't give to be at home and investigating Roxanne's home library _right now_. She always had something interesting to read, whether it be through work-related research or personal curiosity, and it had been a while (three kidnappings ago, really, and quite a long time) since he'd had the chance to snoop. Not that he would be snooping this time! No, any literary discoveries would be _with_ permission, and in a decidedly un-sneaky manner.

And said discoveries would at least give him something to focus on past his discomfort and boredom. Why, he remembered the time he had discovered her _Artemis Fowl_ collection. Hours had been spent familiarizing himself with the fictional genius; another chance like that would definitely stave off his current misery.

_A week_. A week without Roxanne in his life.

The last time something so horrific had occurred it had been his twenty-eighth birthday and she'd gone on a vacation to the Bahamas (somehow discerning that he was about to instigate a plan, as he always did the same time every year). _Operation: Torture-With-Cake_ had been a complete failure, not to mention the fact that he had been forced into suffering Metroman's ribbing at his lack of knowledge.

Imagine, a victim reporting her change in location to her would-be hero but not to her would-be kidnapper. It had really rankled to be left out of the loop-but at least now _he_ was the one whom she informed regarding everything. Or almost everything. There had been that _Girls Night Out_, whatever that was. And then her strange actions lately…

Flushing lavender yet again in memory of the palm print that was seemingly burned into the skin of his shoulder, Megamind thought on this as yet another example of their social discomfort-they both knew that something existed between them, but the past hung overhead like so many newspaper clippings. Sure, he'd saved the city. But, well, it had been from his own creation. And he had lied. Sort of.

It was all very _complicated_. The _whole situation_ was complicated.

Megamind sighed and tried to shift slightly among the luggage surrounding him. It had been easy enough to figure out where Miss Ritchie was going, despite the odd zig-zag of flights she'd taken (did all humans take the most indirect route possible? Or just specifically human women? Maybe it was some sort of inborn flight or fight response, literally in this case?). But he still didn't have any idea as to why Miss Rit-_Roxanne_ was visiting her _re-late-ive_, or what the so-called emergency involved (certainly nothing had happened in the small town over the course of the last year).

_Modesto, California_.

What an odd name for a city. Certainly not as interesting as _Metrocity_, or even some of the more remarkably titled locations: _Metroville_, _Gotham_, _Central City_, _Metropolis_. Hmm, he sensed a theme…

Anyway.

And now that he was actually receiving revenue for his patents the Ex-Villain was able to pay for a ticket-legally! However…there was only one working holowatch. And Minion was busy with it, pretending to be him while the alien followed his quarry. And while _Metrocity_ had certainly become accustomed to the sight of a certain giant-headed, fantastically blue super-genius walking the streets and saving the day, other cities simply hadn't. Making his situation all the more complicated. (There it was, that word again.)

Leather had to be traded for a pair of unfortunately baggy jeans-black of course-cinched tightly at the waist with his usual studded belt. And a cowl easily translated into a hoodie, also black and emblazoned with his signature lightning bolt insignia. Minion had stated that it was overkill, and sure to give him away, but Megamind hadn't been able to resist-it was his only tribute to "fashion," particularly as the whole ensemble almost disgusted him. He'd previously demanded the only other combination he was familiar with in the form of Bernard's turtleneck and jacket, but again Minion had vetoed the selection before he'd even been fully able to voice the idea.

Really, the only way he would be able to go unaccosted would be while disguised as a teenager to hide his bulbous head and odd coloring. Studded black gloves and a skull-etched something called "_snii-kiers_," finished him off, practically guaranteeing that no one would give him a second glance.

But that apparently wasn't enough. It was "customary" for human beings to carry something called a _paws-pourt_. One could easily be forged, but, well…with him being "good" the illegal creation one was a moot point. And then there was the reality of his face, cerulean blue, pasted on a slim piece of cardboard and presented to airport officials…

Suffice to say that it wouldn't go over well.

So he decided to stow-away, as so many fictional characters had done before him. It would be an adventure, his story bound friends informed him! And if, yes, it could be considered a small infraction upon honesty, then he reassured himself with the knowledge that he'd managed to hack into the database and deposit a small sum therein from his own accounts-just enough to pay for the trip, mind you, and possibly a return one back. One could never be too careful.

The discomfort was just a side effect of it all. As was the smell of old lunchmeat and dirty laundry.

~/~/~

AN: Holy response, Batman! I never even expected for this to be well-received, much less reviewed. –gapes outright at her computer screen- Well, here you go, I hope you like the next part. Again, a little boring…but more fun than you'll ever know. ^^ Working with Megamind creates such a load of opportunities that I never even expected.

The next part is already written, I just have to type it up, so I should be able to post it either this Friday or next week, providing I have computer access.

Thank you for all your wonderful responses-I promise I'll respond individually once I get the chance. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Monstrous**

By Shahrezad1

**Summary:** Roxanne thinks it's high time she visited her cousin, especially after missing the girl's ill-fated wedding. Meanwhile Megamind follows with…monstrous results.

**Disclaimer:** Roxanne wears red, Megamind is blue. This Disclaimer is somewhat pointless, but please don't sue…I'm poor enough already. ^^;

~/~/~

**Chapter 3**

Roxanne's arrival on 102 Ginormous Lane was unannounced. The rental car she'd picked up at the airport puttering along steadily down the upper middle class neighborhood without stuttering or any bursts of speed—rather, it reminded her of a very determined camel, complete with shag carpet interior.

A camel leading her straight into the proverbial desert. She actually hadn't been back to this place since college and her following internship in Metrocity, and it showed—ah, _Metro City_. Not Metrocity.

She'd been spending too much time with Megamind.

Roxanne pinched the bridge of her nose, fighting off the nausea left over from her flight. And maybe from something else a little more…pressing. Memories dotted the landscape like yard gnomes, and she tried to focus on the here and now as she parked her vehicle in front of a "recently" repaired white picket fence.

And as the sun reflected upon each fixed break with an orange fervency, it also glaringly spotlighted each flaw of her own. The previously pristine skirt and blouse she wore were wrinkled, for one, and her hair was plastered flat on one side, her mascara bleeding slightly from having rubbed it in her sleep. Add the fact that her heels were aching and it was plain to see that she'd had a long day.

_You've had longer before._

_Yes,_ the semi-conscious part of her brain retorted, _but then you at least had someone blue to look forward to._

Now, now, enough of that.

Ringing the bell, the reporter ignored the desire to lean against the porch siding. She would need all the strength and self possession she could get once confronted with her aunt. And Roxanne had a feeling that it would be a while before she got any sleep.

"_Roxie!"_ strident enthusiasm elicited a wince before she was abruptly yanked inside.

~/~/~

He _loathed_ air flight. Riding in a mecha was certainly one thing, but standard flight was quite another. Then again, maybe the experience would have been different if he had been upright and not surrounded by oversized ladies handbags and suspicious luggage? One of them had smelled so horrifying that he almost expected a mutated feline to leap out from within its depths.

And speaking of smells, the whole city was just…_wee-yard_. And what was that strange greenness glowing in odd viridian at the corner of his eyes, upon this "Harry Sham Field?" It grew like the fuzzy stuff upon food left too long in the _refredgimatater_, sharp and pungent.

True, the scent of city that he had grown up with still existed beneath it all, like a homey, tar-scented air freshener, but the pollution was counterbalanced with a strange freshness, similar to those little shrubs Roxanne insisted on killing with regularity. Making his overactive nostrils and sensitive ears take in the extreme lack of anything familiar rather badly. And adding insult to injury the air was just damp enough with spring to make him shiver within his overlarge, _very_ ventilated clothes, bodysuit or no beneath it all.

Meanwhile, actual park-quality trees and bushes grew uncontrolled just beyond the dimly lit airport's runway, giants only distantly related to their diminutive city cousins. And upon those branches existed a plethora of wildlife, fuzzy and brown and as horrible as one of his more terrifying plagues. Wondering if this was what his food really looked like before it came to his plate, Megamind tried to put the interaction from his mind. The lack of intelligence in the creature's eyes made his interior queasy.

Actually, that was a lie. (A habit he really needed to kick.) For despite his dissatisfaction with the meal options, his groaning first stomach was more than ready for any food at this point, never mind the content.

When he got home he would without a doubt confront Minion on his "Adventuring in California," preparations—clearly enough thought hadn't been put into the situation.

His snacks were gone and the only alternative was something bristly and mud-colored, his transportation was late and getting later, and he seemed to have misplaced the hefty wallet Minion had filled for him with civilian currency. (_!_)

Plus it was getting dark. And it looked like rain.

For the first time in his life he was truly alone. And it was sending feelings of uncertainty and unease swamping through the blue alien, much like his short experience with _shool_. For once he was out of his element entirely, without any means or schemes and not even the familiarity of Minion or a brainbot or two to comfort him. Yes, he had learned of Roxanne's destination, but her exact location was indefinite.

The genius really had nowhere to go and no one to help him. Perhaps he could contact his fishy friend via satellite, but now was not the time. He couldn't-_wouldn't_~-let his plan fail…particularly after what Minion had said about the unlikelihood of his success. After all, what was the purpose in his going to California anyway? To support a cousin of Roxanne's that he didn't even know in her time of need?

The real answer—that he wanted to be with Roxanne, and perhaps was risking the entire city's well being for the sake of meeting her family (what an endlessly fascinating organization, the human family)—was too selfish to think about, and he'd already avowed to stop being selfish…for the greater good! So the emotion niggled at him like the pesky little nuclear warhead it was.

Right as this last thought cemented shut the despondent coffin of his emotions, the roar of an engine poured into his ears not three feet in front of him. Somehow in his steady contemplation he had passed through the fields and on to the edifice's main parking lot, booted feet edging the curb. It was as he had been about to step forward on to the tarmac that the monster sounded its first and only warning cry, and to the former-evil genius' ears it was pure mechanical music.

A breath of homecoming awoke him before he could become tire-chow and, blinking wide green eyes, he could almost feel the skin of his forehead stretch in surprise, eyebrows popping up. Seconds later the gentle whirr of an electric window rolling down caught his attention, and unbidden his gaze rose along the side of a sturdy, shining red pickup truck, wheels raised as high as they could go. Framed within that faraway view was an oval face, eyes sharp and sly, with straight shoulder-length light brown hair.

"Need a lift?" the words caught him off guard. A lift? Lifting what exactly, his luggage? Well, there would be no need for that—he'd dehydrated the hefty burden.

Instead he looked down at the pavement, his empty hands, or anything else really than the woman before him as he searched diligently for some wit to use in answer. Unfortunately no repartee was forthcoming. Amusement colored the girl's next rejoining, as though she'd scanned his brain for thought patterns.

"Look, don't stress over it. I just thought you might need a lift somewhere, since the airport will be shutting down soon and there aren't any other flights scheduled once the sun sets. We're pretty much dead after dark."

_Dead after dark?_ The phrase caught at him oddly, and he wondered for a moment if it truly referred to the undead, before moving on mentally.

And on to the…'glorious, divine intervention'? Was this perhaps providence throwing him a large-wheeled, engine gunning bone, or a curse in disguise? He wasn't certain, but part of him was rooting for the former as chill seeped into the layers he wore.

"Oh. Well, um," what was it that the civilians said so often? "…_shure_. Yes! I mean…why yes, I do require a, what do you call it? A left? It seems that my transportation has failed me."

"The bus?"

Blinking, Megamind wondered again if this human being had telepathic powers of some sort, "how did you…?"

"Saw the last bus of the day break down on the way over and thought I'd run by the airport as I headed back home. The locals know that it's not a good idea to stay out after dark, what with the high level of car theft going on, and you're obviously not local," the wryness in her voice made him straighten this time in indignation, blushing furiously.

"I'll have you know-!"

"You look like you're straight out of the city," she observed with ease, "we get a lot of photography and film students out here, but honestly you look like you're _'too cool for school'_ and trying way too hard. Especially with this being a relatively small place."

The human female had hit onto the situation like a gigantic red button of doom.

Megamind wilted, and the woman softened slightly. But honestly it couldn't erase the feeling of failure weighing down upon his shoulders yet again. True, Minion had been the one to pack and ready the equipment, but it had been his idea—his plan. And it was now failing, utterly.

_Let's face it, I'm in over my gigantic blue head._

It hadn't even entered his mind that inner-city civilians were different from any other civilians! Did that perhaps make the situation akin to entering another country, with different customs and accents? If so then, much like his response to the unexpected offer of aid, he was as far buried in culture shock as any other social alien.

Swimming in it. Drowning in it. Buried under its weight.

Humility was a difficult thing to swallow, but it seemed that fate was willing to give him plenty of practice till the taste became palatable.

Megamind sighed.

"C'mon cityboy. Let me give you a lift."

Despondent green eyes rose from beneath his fathomless hood, then slowly moved with an indication of nodding. He really had no other option.

"Thank you."

"No problem. I'm Katie."

"It's a pleasure…_Kyaayti_. I'm…M-Marion. That can be a boy's name, right?"

"Yep. I'll be calling you Mel, though. 'Cause I won't be able to keep a straight face if I have to call you that."

"I don't m-mind," he laughed awkwardly to cover the pause," Be my guest. Mel. _Meh-lu_."

"_Oookay._ So, where are you heading, Mel?"

~/~/~

AN:

Just as a head's up, I was totally winging it when I decided to place the setting in Modesto. And then I realized that one of the readers actually was from the place, and had to pull out my research powers. XD Still, I hope this passes okay through the radar—I did my best with the information I gleaned. The airport not having overnight flights and the lack of buses is all author's convenience, as I'm pretty sure that information is incorrect, but I'm really trying to get things right otherwise.

Hope I passed muster, truly! –laughs wryly- Comments and constructive criticism welcome!

As for the belatedness of this chapter…holy crap, where do I start? Um. School. How about school? As some of you may know, I'm in the final three semesters of college (before I start back up again with a new degree. Honestly, what is wrong with me?), and right now I'm taking classes with two of the hardest teachers in my major.

Between these two classes my brain is seriously dying. I eat and sleep school, with exception of breaks at work (in which I allow myself to write out a little bit of fanfiction) and doodling during class to keep me from falling asleep (most of my recent fanart comes from this).

I'm sorry. T_T Please forgive my neglect—I feel pretty horrible about it, actually. But, well, at least the information is all written down, even if it's not all typed. It means that there's hope for this story yet! =D


	4. Chapter 4

**Monstrous**

By Shahrezad1

**Summary:** Roxanne thinks it's high time she visited her cousin, especially after missing the girl's ill-fated wedding. Meanwhile Megamind follows with…monstrous results.

**Disclaimer:** Roxanne wears red, Megamind is blue. This Disclaimer is somewhat pointless, but please don't sue…I'm poor enough already. ^^;

~/~/~

**Chapter 4**

"Sooo…'_Ginormous_ Lane'? I could have sworn that you lived on Chrysanthemum the last time I was here."

The question was aimed at the family dinner table, a light honeyed wood she couldn't remember ever having seen. But her Aunt Wendy answered the question anyway, bustling around the room at several tasks at once as though on roller skates and the kitchen-slash-dining are was a skating rink.

"Well, it _has_ been ten years since you stayed, and the only times you've ever visited were for Susan's graduations," she filled up a mug full of hot cocoa from a tea kettle on the stove with all the grace of an unconscious hostess, and Roxanne wondered at the beverage choice. She was nearly thirty, for heaven's sake, and no longer the jeans-wearing, scabbed-kneed kid that Wendy had helped to partially raise. But, well, some habits die harder than others and at least her Aunt's cocoa had always been good.

"True."

The elegant brunette continued answering, however, in a ramble that was very characteristic of the homemaker, "and then there was the whole town voting on it, what with everything happening. They thought that it was a proper tribute, considering, but I think that it was a bit too much. Even Susan agrees."

Blue eyes blinked ponderous as a certain something rose from the content of her Aunt's phrasing, like steam from her drink. It sent her reporter instincts jumping to the forefront, but as much as the spirit was willing the flesh was very weak…and her brain just didn't want to try and deal with yet another thing right now.

'_Everything'?_ What could the Murphy matriarch be talking about? The most that had ever happened tin the small Californian town was a series of weddings, birthdays, and the occasional scandalous divorce. Not to mention that barn fire Dillon Maxfield had started midway into her senior year—and from her cousin's past remarks people were _still_ talking about it, even now. It was this mentality of small-town-ness that had been one of the reasons she'd been so adamant about going to college on the _opposite_ side of the United States.

Silence hung between them like laundry caught in the rain. Then finally she gave in to her curiosity.

"'Everything', Aunt Wendy?"

"Why, yes, everything," the older woman echoed with almost lightheartedness; a kind of false happiness that put Roxanne on edge. And her hand had shaken slightly as she passed the reporter a slice of chocolate cake with a side of rocky road ice cream.

Cocoa. Chocolate cake. Rocky Road. All were comfort foods for her aunt. And there, sitting innocently on the edge of the tiled counter, a light blue color reflecting country skies, was a half-empty jar of peppermint candies. Her Uncle regularly partook of them for his indigestion, but the excess of wrappers in the open garbage pail was alarming.

_"…saying that there was some emergency that direly needed my help…"_

"I'm sure Susan's already explained it all."

"No. She hasn't."

Wendy's fluttering, bird-like hands stilled. And that was, by far, the most frightening piece of evidence that Roxanne had seen yet.

"Oh. Well, you'll get the chance to speak with her tonight, I suppose. She's back in town again after her most recent…excursion."

The younger woman's back straightened, exhaustion swept away at this further detail as wide blue eyes became wider still, "back in town? I never thought that she'd ever even leave this place, except maybe to go on that Honeymoon of hers. Wait, don't tell me she-!"

"No, she didn't marry Derek. Thank heavens for that," at least on this account Mrs. Murphy was confident, smiling beautifully in an expression of her former-Beauty-Queen glory.

And in that moment her appearance was an almost painful echo of someone else Roxanne hadn't seen in a very long time, but she pushed past it. Meanwhile, Her Aunt had apparently decided that she had revealed enough for one day, shutting down the conversation with a blink of subtly shuttered eyes.

"Anyway, I've got to make a trip to the store to pick up a few tubs of egg salad, which should give you a chance to rest and recuperate from your trip. Here is a copy of the house keys," they were placed in Roxanne's unresisting hands, "and I've made up the old guest room for you the way you like it."

_Ugh._ Gingham and ivory-on-rose wallpaper, a leftover from the grandmother that she and Susan had barely known.

Well, it was better than a night at a hotel. Or worse, the road.

~/~/~

The urge to nod off rose every few seconds for the poor villain, but unease kept him awake. He didn't trust his _all-true-istic_ guide despite the "lift" she had offered; there was just something altogether predatory in her gaze that he didn't trust. Still, he'd been appreciative, particularly when she fended off the idea of payment for her aid. And leery yet again when "Katie" offered him a couch to sleep on when they arrived in the city.

Um. No.

Was this common practice, he wondered, for total strangers to gift others with "lifts" and living quarters? And then there were the nonstop questions she'd pestered him with:

_What do you do for a living? _

_How is your free time spent? _

_Why are visiting Modesto? _

_When was he leaving?_

The questions attacked him like so many of Metroman's punches and decidedly cheesy one-liners, and he tried to answer them as swiftly and as…_honestly_ as he could.

_I work with the state._

_ Creating inventions which improve the standard of living._

_ A family emergency had been called._

_ By the end of the week._

They were all true enough, he acknowledged hesitantly. Give or take a few exaggerations. But all in all the questions were incessant and invasive and came so quickly that he had no other defense but to actually answer her back! Not too fully, of course. But somehow even with his careful wordings the human female was chipping away at his back story, forcing him to reveal more and more truth with every careful little dig.

But full truth would translate into disaster, he knew, and thus was keeping his conversation fairly mum. And it wasn't as though he could outright lie—he'd just taken an oath to only do right! Any infraction, no matter how small, could become the gateway 'drug' which led back to old habits. It was frighteningly similar to walking along a tightrope above an alligator pit, Megamind found, and much harder than when he'd been evil. For at least when you were evil you knew which side you were on, and stayed as gleefully far away from the other side as you possibly could. Being good was constantly plagued by temptation—sometimes he wondered if all the effort was worth it. Honestly, how Metroman had dealt with it as long as he did Megamind didn't know.

This thought furrowed his large brow and for once Megamind pondered pitying his rival before dismissing the idea entirely.

"You know, that hoodie doesn't really hide what you look like."

_WHAT?_ Panic streaked through his system like a hot-rodder on the run as he abruptly faced his formerly benevolent benefactress. But benevolent no more—he knew the truth now; she must have seen his face and knew who he was and what he had been, and what's more she probably was out to sell him to-!

"You're one of them, aren't you?"

_Wait...them? Um_….mouth open, forehead crinkling, Megamind turned to the girl as his mental splutter abruptly died. Katie sat facing forward, hands on the wheel, but her eyes peeked out to the passenger seat as though she couldn't help herself, insatiable curiosity gleaming greedily.

"I mean, I really shouldn't have been surprised—it was only a matter of time before you all started coming, like some sort of league or something."

_There are Superheroes in California?_ Gripping the backpack in his arms till his knuckles were nearly pastel beneath his gloves, Megamind seriously considered hyperventilating. After all, what would they think of him? Would they suppose that he was entering their territory, or making a move to add their state to his already conquered city? And what if they hadn't heard of his reformation, what then?

Icy terror burned his nerves, spiking an increase of plans for escape and adaptation through the many brilliant portions of his brain.

"Still, I definitely expected more of a response in Nevada than Cali. Even after, well, _everything_ happened. And would you believe that I was the one that first saw it, too? Well, me and Cuthbert, anyway, that wet blanket…"

'_Everything?'_ What was this strange emphasis she'd placed on the word, as though there was an unspoken element of local history that was intrinsically understood by everyone? And it was as though she was assuming that_ he_ should know what was being spoken of, too. A most puzzling mystery.

"It was a shock at first, but then you get used to odd things here. Blue skin isn't that big of a deal. Not like that fish guy, anyway," even through the horror that had taken him up like so many alien abductions, Megamind could hear Katie's speculative tone, her perpetual curiosity and a heavy dose of interest warming up her vowels.

"Now there's an interesting guy. Gorilla meets fish, but all _man_. I wonder if he's ever thought about going into wrestling? I heard he fought off the coast guard once—pretty impressive."

Finally, the former villain regained his tongue. Although at an…odd moment, "How d-did you…know?"

"Oh, the blue skin?" she flashed him a grin as sly as a fox and twice as lethal, "like I mentioned, hoodies are pretty ineffective. Plus I got a good luck when you attempted to climb in…oh, the third or fourth time anyway. Next time you hitchhike you might want to think about wearing a ski mask…or bandages. Although, come to think of it, bandages strung across your face might hinder your cause as much as help it…"

When he seriously considered wearing some, however, she assured him that she was just teasing.

_Teasing?_ How odd. He'd always associated the word with Roxanne's mode of communication; a mix of intelligent repartee and flirtation. Who knew that it could also apply to mocking? Did that mean that some of Metroman's speeches and the Warden's life-long censure counted as teasing, then? Had he misconstrued an entire mode of interaction?

And then there was the detail of the 'Fish Guy,' she'd mentioned. Was there perhaps a chance that there were others like Minion here on Earth? But there couldn't be—the driver had stated that the man was part gorilla and despite mechanical appearances that didn't quite fit into Minion's physiological makeup.

"Anyway, they've forted themselves out here off and on for the last two years, ever since they thwarted that Alien Invasion."

"_A-Alien_ Invasion?" when had _that_ happened?

"You know the one. It happened…oh, March 27th, about two years ago."

Reaching back into the phenomenal depths of his blue cranium, Megamind tried to remember what had happened that day and came up with…nothing, for once. A complete blank. Which was rather odd for a creature of such extraordinary memory. But then the visual bled into an orange backdrop and suddenly it all made sense.

He'd woken up in the prison infirmary the day after whatever had happened, bruised but not broken. And as for the day before…that day he and Metroman had gotten into an all-out rumble. It hadn't even been one of their usual sparring matches, either. For that day Megamind had been truly angry, not at a foiled scheme—it had been at himself. And Metroman had been a ready outlet for his 'gluttony for punishment,' as Minion was fond of saying.

Miss Ritchie had gotten hurt and it had been his fault. He remembered that much. And…flamethrowers? He'd underestimated the trajectory and an explosion had occurred when a nearby tank of…something had been hit. The intrepid reporter had been hurt somehow. Metroman had only appeared after the fact, a detail he'd raged at as an emotional scapegoat. No matter who was really to blame in the situation.

He'd woken up much later, remorseful and bitter at himself amid a full body cast. The prison infirmary had been set up into an impromptu cell befitting his reputation, and only then had he seen Roxanne with short hair and what looked like an almost-healed sunburn. He'd never even made the connection, that memory knocked cleanly from his brain.

Guilt wrapped itself around his second stomach (small and used for filtering poisonous substances, he'd found to his surprise. Apparently his species was accustomed to eating a wider variety of plant life than human beings. It had been an aid when other inmates decided to find out what he was allergic to as an adolescent). And somewhat despondently the hero reminded himself to apologize to his…friend later.

They were that at least…weren't they? He'd never really had a friend other than Minion before, and that relationship had almost been mandatory. With the three of them together, they were almost a…family.

But Roxanne had been acting so strangely lately. Maybe she no longer wanted to be in his presence; perhaps this trip of hers was an indication of that decision? And if so, then what about his heart? He'd fallen in love with the dark haired woman (oh, how her hair fascinated him!), but she'd never indicated any similar feeling. Perhaps it was time to…well, talk. To ask her.

Especially if she was remembering memories such as those involving the flamethrower.

And added to that worry, there was also these newly discovered Californian Superheroes to worry about…

~/~/~

AN: To answer some old questions: No, Megamind is not wearing the holowatch. He left it behind, with Minion. :) He's wearing a hoodie, and naively thinks that that will hide him from any and all attention (plus, it's dark outside). Thus the reason why Katie is able to figure things out so fast. ~_^ Katie is not an original character—this is a crossover (even though it's not listed as such), so she is a NPC from another movie…I just didn't want to put the story into the crossover category just yet, otherwise I knew that it wouldn't see the light of day. -_-;; March 27th, 2009 is the airing date of the movie that I'm crossing this over with. Muahaha. :3

By the way, there _are_ superheroes in California. They're called the Incredibles. XD _Hilarious_, if do say so myself. ~_^


	5. Chapter 5

**Monstrous**

By Shahrezad1

**Summary:** Roxanne thinks it's high time she visited her cousin, especially after missing the girl's ill-fated wedding. Meanwhile Megamind follows with…monstrous results.

**Disclaimer:** Roxanne wears red, Megamind is blue. This Disclaimer is somewhat pointless, but please don't sue…I'm poor enough already. ^^;

~/~/~

**Chapter 5**

The desire for sleep fought with the realization that this might be her one chance at a shower, and unsurprisingly the shower won. Sure, afterward her mind wouldn't rest but she at least felt a little more whole, if sleep-deprived. And jet lag required that she hold off a little longer anyway.

Instead the woman, clean and newly dressed, began snooping around. It wasn't her favorite mode of investigation, but she wasn't completely above it, particularly when the mystery being solved involved her Aunt and Uncle. After all, the secret that was essentially being tossed over head like a game of keep away _was_ a family secret and Susan _had_ said that it was an emergency.

Her Aunt's regular tributary wall-o'-photographs was devoid of any clues to tip her off, or, interestingly enough, shots of Roxanne except for her high school graduation photograph. And there really was nothing more recent than the Murphy family trip, occurring just after Susan cut her hair, while the space that she assumed used to hold a shot of her cousin and ex-fiancé was conspicuously absent. You'd have thought that her Aunt would have filled in that gap a while ago, but all that remained was a bright square of contrast on the hallway wallpaper.

Still, it put Roxanne in mind of another white dress, one she'd saved in the back of her closet since she'd turned twenty, and a mental image of being arm in arm with a certain blue groom came into being. She blinked the apparition furiously away. Where had that come from? The reporter continued searching, but the image felt burned into her soul, a warmth seeming to wrap itself around her innards. Would a future like that really be so bad?

Respect kept Roxanne from entering into her Aunt and Uncle's room, but she held no such barriers against going into their daughter's place. The bed appeared to be well-laundered but unused, the sheets smelling of laundry detergent but nothing else. And the comforter was tucked in, bed skirts professionally placed below the metal four-poster.

She frowned, then continued walking.

The flowers on the bed stand were new, the clothes in the closet pressed, wooden floors varnished and shining. Everything was dusted and lovingly placed. But not lived in. And the cheerful yellow room—Susan's favorite color—felt more like a guest bedroom than the haven of a young woman. It was cared for and as ready for photographic opportunities as any professional showroom, but without the friendly presence of any owner, particularly that of the always-optimistic Susan Murphy.

Yet Aunt Wendy had said that Susie was back…so why wasn't she home? And why were her things completely untouched, in styles from two years past?

Returning everything back into its place, the reporter wandered back into the main community areas, taking a weary seat in the family room. And then she saw it—the only evidence of time moving on amid this living history museum.

It was a newspaper clipping, cut down to size either to focus on Susan's face or to shut out the other people within the image. She was wearing a military-style dungaree uniform along with a grin, although something seemed wrong about the perspective. And her hair…the former brunette looked like she'd been attacked with a bottle of bleach, turning her strands an almost platinum blonde. It oddly suited the girl, which Roxanne would never have imagined previously. But somehow it worked.

The end result of such a find was that she now knew what to look for within the Murphy home, snatches of framed black and white images standing out as clues to an eye trained at searching for patterns. They all seemed to be on the main floor, from the multiple images in the family room to the single one in Aunt Wendy's sewing room. But Roxanne really hit the mother-load in her Uncle Carl's study with full images and headlines, but no text.

_'Local Girl Saves World!'_ sat parallel with, _'Californian Defeats Giant Robot!'_ while, _'Surprising Saviors,'_ caught her attention. All the publicity photos portrayed Susan full-out, whether standing or crouching on something furry. Several tiny figures, the size of toys, sat perched on her form or sticking out of pockets—and strange as it seemed, she thought she had an explanation for the image cropping down by her Aunt. She was _sure_ that it was her Aunt, as Wendy tended to avoid anything that upset her overmuch, but even that minute satisfactory realization couldn't deter her from the realization that something was going on.

But there wasn't time to ponder further. The sound of a certain distinct automobile, the same one Mrs. Murphy had had since the start of her marriage, came up the street and to their little driveway. Roxanne Ritchi left the office in a shot, closing the door and rushing her way back up the stairs. And in those minutes, wearing comfortable jeans and a semi-casual flower-print blouse, she felt more like a teenager than she had in years. Namely, she'd almost been caught in the act, although _this _time there was nothing that she'd actually done wrong. Roxanne had gotten into more scraps at seventeen than she had in all her years as a reporter, kidnappings aside. There had just been something about the Murphy family that made her want to rebel. Or sneak out. Or borrow the car at three in the morning.

Or even snoop around the house searching for clues rather than actually asking her Aunt what was wrong.

Just as the woman in question turned the lock Roxanne did a swift turn-around at the top of the stairs, combing her damp hair as though she'd just left her room after showering and changing. Wendy seemed not to notice it, humming an off-tune rendition of a recent pop song, and the thirty-year old relaxed marginally.

"Oh, Roxie! There you are," her warm smile was tempered by some other unknown emotion, and the reporter nearly stumbled as two slim boxes were shoved into her arms. They were roughly the size of pizza boxes, but she could already smell chocolate chip wafting from inside.

"Your Uncle won't be able to join us tonight, so it'll be just you two girls."

"What, you mean just Susan and I?" the reporter blinked hard in surprise, "I thought that you were…"

"Oh I was, Roxie," Roxanne fought the urge to cringe, "but, well," manicured hands were thrown into the air in a deliberate display of forced nonchalance, but Wendy Murphy wouldn't make eye contact, "I don't like to be without Carl for long. And besides, Susan can always give you a ride back. Or one of her little friends."

A noticeable twist came to Mrs. Murphy's smile, but by the time she had registered her niece's double take she'd smoothed it out.

"Yeah, sure."

Which was how Metro City's star reporter set off on her next interview. The two women sat in the car in silence until her relation turned on the radio. But when Wendy began tapping her fingers on the wheel Roxanne noted that it wasn't even close to the beat, her drumming fast paced and emotional.

Suburbs and industrialized areas passed them by along with landmarks and statues. She recognized one or two from her years spent in the small city—well known edifices of paperboys and film characters. Better listeners, all of them, than the woman sitting beside her, she acknowledged with resignation. But hadn't that always been the case?

Soon rolling green hills came into view and as if on automatic Roxanne looked to her right, expecting to see the town church house as the city's final farewell before fields became their only diversion. But only bricks lay in its place, rubble the only sign of that stalwart soldier's last stand. She gaped as the noble ruin, memories flashing a slideshow across her view as she recalled every event she'd attended within its walls.

Every prank she'd ever pulled.

When had this happened? Roxanne opened her mouth to ask her Aunt, then immediately closed it. There would be no help from that corner—the only person she could ask was Susan.

Wendy's mouth remained pursed and tight as they crested the hill and continued till they were hardly in Modesto anymore.

Fifteen minutes later she could see a building slowly rising out of the horizon. Truthfully, it looked like an army bunker, a cement and metal monolith complete with military logo presented on the outside face. A moderate-sized window existed near the roof in a path directly parallel to a similar-sized one near the ground, and outside existed a wide, enclosed yard that ran roughly half the length of a football stadium and two mailboxes. One was nondescript, while the other was the size of a garbage can.

Roxanne blinked but didn't quite know how to remark on the strange object. Thus didn't.

_What in the world?_

As they closed the final distance, however, a song she was familiar with played in the background, and Roxanne absently listened to the tune, but part of the next verse gave her pause, particularly when her Aunt abruptly switched the radio off.

"…_and she said, we are all just prisoners here of our own device."_

"We're here!"

~/~/~

**AN:**

Sorry, it's kind of a Roxanne-centric chapter, and a boring one at that. ^^; Erm, Sorry. As a note, it may be a while before anything else gets posted—I don't have anything else written on paper, except for excerpts that occur later on down the line. Plus, um, I'm kind of working on three stories at the same time, which you may have noted. XD So if you want me to work on this one, make sure to send me a line! :)

Also, I know that the Monsters Vs. Aliens (ha! Big reveal, in case you didn't make that connection previously) Halloween special exists…somewhere out there. ^_^;; And I know that there's apparently a scene that shows where Susan and the guys now live, complete with furniture large enough for her form. _But I can't find it anywhere._ So if anyone knows where I might find that data, then I can probably be more accurate with the interior. ~_^ Otherwise, I'm totally making everything up. :D Seriously. Making it up.

The song Roxanne is listening to is, "Hotel California," by the Eagles, by the way. The story is that the lyrics were originally written with an insane asylum in mind, _"you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave."_

Aka, _"don't think of this as a prison. Think of it as a hotel you never leave because it's locked from the outside!"_ (Courtesy of General W. R. Monger.)


End file.
